Hello lovelies! (FYI to all my MASH readers, I have not given up on those stories yet! Expect an update soon!)- This is a story I've been meaning to write for a long, long, looonnnnnggggg time :) I actually had a draft typed out from a while ago, so I'm building off of it. Please leave your suggestions in the review box for what you think of it, and if you have any ideas for me! Enjoy! XOXO P.S.- I do not have the pleasure of owing Game of Thrones or all its magicalness

Joffrey was born with it. Cersei had known that there would be something unusual about her firstborn the moment he was conceived, it seemed. It was a maternal instinct, a feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what or why her child would be special, she just prayed to the gods for their wellbeing and happiness.

Joffrey's birth was long and painful, perhaps the most of all her children. Even with an army of midwives, grand maester Pycelle and her beloved twin brother by her side, she couldn't help but be frantic with worry that something would go wrong. It was 36 brutal hours of labor and pushing, but when she heard her son's first gurgle, she forgot about all the pain and was overjoyed. She remembers when he was placed in her arms, big blue eyes staring up guilelessly at her. And for a moment, just a moment, her world was free of the worries and cares that had plagued her all her life. It was just her and Joffrey.

But as quick as that moment of bliss came, it was replaced with worry and concern. "He is not crying," she'd said breathlessly to grand maester Pycelle, "what's wrong, why is he not crying?"

The maester and midwives were baffled, and she remembers the look of confusion on Jaime's face. "He is perfectly healthy, your grace, I haven't the slightest idea why he's being so quiet," Pycelle had murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

It was the first of many unbelievable things her son would do.

The day after Joffrey's birth, a celebration had been held in the throne room. A grand ball of lords and ladies from all over the seven kingdoms had gathered to congratulate the queen and marvel at her son. The comments quickly grew abrasive on Cersei's nerves, as everyone could not stop commenting on how, "He'll be a great fighter like his grace!" or, "He has Robert's eyes, in a certain light, don't you agree?". She bristled every time her husband's name was mentioned. Robert was a drunken fool who could never compare to Jaime, and she knew it hurt her brother terribly to hear so many people gushing over a child who, as far as they were concerned, had nothing to do with him.

But Cersei could not protest or lash out at the idiots like she'd so desperately wanted to do. Instead, she just held Joffrey in her arms and tried to drown out the mindless chatter and get lost in the beautiful face of her son.

That's when it happened.

Lord Kilgar, a burly man from highgarden, was next in line to greet the queen. With him she thought was his servant, but a second glance told her she was wrong. An elderly woman who looked as old as time itself hobbled over with him as he greeted her with a hearty chuckle. "Your grace, you are looking marvelous as always." He'd patronised.

Cersei smiled politely but did not take her eyes off the old woman dressed in rags. "What is this?" She had asked haughtily, gesturing to the crone.

"A gift!" Kilgar boasted, "It is traditional in highgarden for a newborn to receive their first fortune from a renowned sightseer."

Cersei raised an eyebrow at this, trying to hide her distaste. "We are not in Highgarden, my lord… Tell me, what purpose will this serve me or the future king?" She asked bitterly. She had a deep dislike for fortune tellers; Maggie the Frog was her first run in, but then again, she was a woods witch, not a sightseer. They were all the same in Cersei's eyes, though. Peasants who'd gone mad trying to make a living by lying to people.

Lord Kilgar looked nervous, swallowing slightly. "It's a fun way to spin a tale, my queen, a story to tell him when he gets older. And after she's given you her reading, you can do whatever you like with her." He gestured roughly to the woman, whose face held an unreadable look.

Sensing that this would be the only way to get rid of the annoying lord, she rolled her eyes and held Joffrey close to her. "Very well, then. Give me my son's fortune, hag." She commanded.

The old woman hobbled forward, a crooked grin on her wrinkled face. A bony hand reached out and, quicker than Cersei thought the woman capable, brushed lightly across Joffrey's forehead. She opened her mouth to tell the old crone to take her disgusting hands off her son, but before she could the sightseer gave her fortune.

"Your son shall possess great power and strength, a lion that walks amongst the waves, a boy who speaks the tongue of the sea. And you will be happy." She rasped, making Cersei frown slightly in confusion, but smile proudly. Her boy would bring honor and glory to the Lannister name; this much she knew for sure.

"However," The old woman warned, eyes suddenly taking on a hollow, haunted look, "on the eve of his seventeenth birthday, he shall fall in love with a girl who bears your enemy's crest, and they shall rise up together and the throne will have no king. A three headed beast shall emerge from the darkness you locked it away in, and it will seek its revenge on your kingdom and house. And Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, will die in defending all he holds dear."

The woman's head came off before any other commotion could occur, Ser Meryn not hesitating to follow through his order. Cersei was so lost in thought that she hadn't even heard herself scream for the woman's head, didn't remember clutching Joffrey close as a crowd gathered to gawk at the scene.

She knew she ought not pay attention to foolish peasant's tales, but for some reason the old woman's words haunted her, taunted her with their abstract meanings. She didn't understand it then; a lion will walk amongst the waves? A three headed beast? She had gone to bed that night holding her son close, refusing to believe anything that woman had said. Her words, however, never stopped ringing through the queen's mind.

Five years later:

"Mama!" Joffrey called, trotting happily along the beach, "Mama, come play with me!"

Cersei was nursing 1 year old Myrcella on the shore, watching her son play about the waves. It was a beautiful, sunny day with her children. Robert had gone hunting for the week, offering the queen some much needed time alone with her cubs. She smiled as Joffrey ran up to her, blonde hair a sandy mess of wisps on his head as he grinned. At five years old, he was the embodiment of a mischievous child. Always a ball of energy, never ceasing to amaze Cersei with his eagerness.

"I am tending to your sister, my love, go on and play in the water." She encouraged, rocking a slightly upset Myrcella.

Joffrey nodded, smile never leaving his face. "Kay!" He called, and ran down to the waves. What happened next would forever change Cersei's world.

She felt her stomach drop and her smile fade as it came out of nowhere; A wave at least 12 feet tall rose up from the deep and engulfed Joffrey, carrying him out to sea.

"JOFFREY!" She screamed, and ran down to the water with a shrieking Myrcella in her arms. Her heart was in her throat as she searched for her child, pleading to the gods that the worst was not possible. She didn't even notice that she had waded into the water up to her hips, expensive gold embroidered gown floating about her as she frantically searched for her eldest.

"Joffrey!" She called again, tears streaming down her face as she searched aimlessly in the water, cradling Myrcella above the waves to her chest.

"I'm here, Mama!" A giggling voice shook her from her daze, and her head snapped around to see Joffrey standing on a glowing blue wave of water, the liquid seeming to cocoon him protectively as he floated three feet or so above the surface level. Fish swam in the water about his face, and he laughed, hands reaching out and stroking the wave. The ocean seemed to purr like an animal, playfully wetting his hair, making him laugh again.

Joffrey noticed his mother's tears and frowned, hands glowing bright blue as they stroked the wave again. "Why're you sad, Mama? The sea was just playing with me, honest."

Cersei was speechless, staring at wide eyed at her son. And the sightseer's words rang through her head; "A lion amongst the waves… He shall speak the tongue of the sea." Dear gods, it was true. What she'd said was true. Her son had magic. Joffrey possessed elemental magic. She felt her world threaten to collapse, and it took all she had in her not to faint. Her children were her life; if anything were to happen to them, she didn't know what she would do. She did, however, know what happened to the few rare people who possessed magic; a terrible fate to be cursed with. They were hunted, stalked, killed for their abilities ruthlessly. To possess magic in Westeros was to have a constant target painted on you, an emblem signaling the most threatening thing of all; you were different. Surely the danger on her son's life would be magnified ten fold now, being that he was Robert's heir already, but now this? A million thoughts ran through Cersei's mind, but perhaps the most unsettling of all was that so far, the once 'stupid, pointless' prophecy was coming true. The final thing the woman had said to her burnt like hot coals in her brain; "He shall die defending all he holds dear… He shall die… He shall die… He shall die…".

Breathless, she watched as the wave literally carried her son back to shore, setting him down gently on the sand. The water still glowed an ethereal blue where his palms had touched it, and he waved happily as it receded back into the ocean. Cersei ran back out of the water and scooped up her son, peppering kisses all over his face.

"Oh, my son… I thought I'd lost you." She murmured, cupping his cheek with her hand. Joffrey stared back at her innocently, confused at what she'd said. She just held her children close and hurried them back to the castle.

Her maids had a fit when they saw the trio enter the palace, fussing over Cersei's dress and the water soaking her children. "Is everything alright, milady?" Her handmaiden asked, helping her into a new gown.

Cersei pursed her lips before handing Myrcella over to the woman. "Put her to bed. I must see to my son."

"Yes, your grace." The handmaiden answered, gently rocking the princess before going to put her in her crib.

The queen hurried through the halls to her son's room, trying to compose herself so as to not draw suspicion. Her hands were still shaking from it all, her face pale and clammy. She hadn't told Robert, and probably never will. She did not trust the man- not with a wine glass, and certainly not with her son.

She pushed the heavy wooden door open and swept into Joffrey's room, where he sat playing with his toy soldiers on the carpet. He looked up when he saw his mother enter, smiling as he set his toy knight down. "Mama, do you want to come play with me?"

Cersei forced a smile as she knelt down to her son's eye level, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Joffrey… I want to talk to you about what happened at the beach today."

Joffrey frowned in confusion. "What 'bout the beach, Mama?"

The queen drew in a deep breath, looking into her son's deep blue eyes. "You can do things, with the ocean, can't you? Things no one else can?" She half asked, half stated.

Joffrey shrugged, frowning slightly as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "I guess… I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Cersei smiled at her child's innocence and shook her head softly. "No, my love. But you must do me a great favor. You can do that, can't you? Can you be a big, strong king for me?" She asked, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice.

Joffrey's eyes lit up with eagerness and he smiled. "I can do it, Mama!" He exclaimed, "I can be a good king!"

The queen looked her son square in the eyes, her face all seriousness as she spoke to him in a grave tone he'd never heard before. "You must promise me that you will never, ever use your magic again. You are not to speak of it to anyone, not your father, your siblings, no one. Do you understand me?"

Joffrey's smile faded and something broke inside of him. His magic made him happy; surely his mother could see this? It was a part of him, as was the sea. Asking him to stay away was like asking him to carve out what made him feel happiest. When he stood in the waves, he felt alive, felt like flying. When he touched the ocean, he was electric. He belonged. And to suddenly just… Stop? He felt tears begin to stream down his face, his toy knight long forgotten.

"B-but Mama, I-I-" He hiccupped through his sobs.

"Say it!" Cersei cut him off, voice harsher than she meant. It held a desperate tint to it, like she was barely managing to keep from being hysterical. Losing her son was not an option. It just wasn't. "Tell me, Joffrey, tell me you understand!"

The little prince's eyes clouded over, like a flower wilting in the winter, and he nodded. "I understand." He whispered weakly.

Cersei pursed her lips and nodded, collecting herself before pulling Joffrey into her arms. But as she hugged her son, she felt something inside her freeze. Joffrey's posture was stiff and tense, and he did not hug her back. His aura of happiness and mischief was gone. His face was a blank mask, unnerving her the more she looked at him. And even as she left his room, he did not resume playing with his toys. He simply sat there, staring as if looking for something invisible.

Somewhere in her conscience, Cersei felt a pang of guilt, like she'd done something terrible… But just as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. This is for the best, She told herself firmly. She would not lose her son. She would not.